Happy Accident
by Ispell2
Summary: Velina is an Imperial, one generation before the Dragonborn. In fact, she is her mother. Gerrick is an Altmer, and the Dragonborn's father. But, their marriage was not their choice. But when they finally see each other, at the end of the wedding, it's love at first sight. But, you know that embarrassing feeling when you're around your crush? Imagine that you're married.
1. The Wedding

Vilena admired herself in the mirror;A 5' 5'' Imperial woman, young for her age, with seductive and bold features, her eyes a burning blue, outlined and brightened with black, and glossy pearlesque lips. A fine figure for a thirty two year old woman. Her light ginger hair was twisted in to many braids, and then arranged in to an intricate flower design, weaved with delicate flowers and gems. Placed to the front was a traditional tiara, made to look like a vine, passed down from woman to woman in her family.

Her dress was toga styled; pure white soft fabric, draped and pinned around her, and a robin's egg blue velvet cape was placed around her shoulders. (I like describing dresses, okay?) Her ladies in waiting were standing around her holding large bouquets of flowers, looking down as they were to do when a noble was present. She herself had a large smile on her face, and felt a rush of pride at her appearance. After all, it was her wedding day. She was supposed to be happy. So, why wasn't she?

She knew that arranged marriages were custom when a nobility wasn't married by her age, and she knew that this marriage was for the greater good of her family. Possibly even all of Tamriel! Without marriage alliances, many of the olden wars of the Empire would have been lost, and the Empire probably wouldn't even exist! But to an Altmer? She had friends and relatives who had been married off to High Elf husbands. They told of miserable times, being neglected and hated by their own husbands, not even getting to have children or sleep in the same bed!

She didn't want that. She wanted love. She wanted romance. She wanted to find her own husband. But it was not her decision. In fact, it was her own family who had suggested it to the Aredreyn's. They were a high up family among the Altmer nobility, and had great authority with the Thalmor, while not actually being part of the Thalmor. They had many children, just like Vilena, and only three of them were married. Their youngest son, Gerrick, who was 459, (about 27 in High Elf years) and a disappointment by their standards.

Since the Facian family, Vilena's family, were an important military family, and relatives of the crown, both sides decided to kill two birds with one stone, and marry them off. Unbeknownst to either family, they were pretty much getting rid of their least favored and promising children. She knew little of her soon-to-be husband other than his family was important, he wasn't exactly a prodigy, and he was an Altmer. She reflected on her fate in the mirror, and noticed a familiar face behind her. "You look beautiful, Vilena.", her mother said in the kindest voice she could muster.

While her mother seemed sweet, and her moderately wrinkled face gave her the look of a loving grandmother, she was a cold and heartless woman. She, too had been in an arranged marriage, but at a much younger age, 16, and had given birth to her oldest sibling, her sister named Alexandra, when she was just 17. Vilena was positive her mother did not love her father. "Thank you, Lady Facian.", as she had to do when addressing a nobility, even when she herself was one, and her she was speaking to her own mother.

Vilena's mother took her hand, and helped her down from the podium. "It is time for you to accept that you were not wanted by any man, and to join in a required marriage. It's time for me to accept that, too. I just don't know why no one proposed a marriage with you; You're beautiful, intelligent, and delicate. Oh, what am I saying, I know exactly why. You're too strong willed. No man wants a wife who will talk when no spoken to.", her mother told her while straightening the brooch pinning her dress together.

Vilena fought a spiteful glare. "Yes, Lady Facian.", she obeyed. Her mother looked at her down her nose, and seemed to soften for a moment. "Vilena... While you are certainly not my favorite daughter", she started. _"Yes, mother, as you have made it clear, over, and over, and over again."_, Vilena silented smoldered. "You are still my daughter. I was unhappy with being married to someone I never met, when I was getting married, though I was far, far younger than you, so it was to be expected. The point is...". Her mother sighed.

She pulled jeweled comb out of her hair, which was done in a similar style as her daughters, and placed it in the back of Vilena's hair. "This was gift from my father at my wedding. I was a selfish child, and at the time I was so dazzled by it that I had been silent about my objections. Now, it's compensation for you to be a good, _silent _wife. And...", her mother trailed off, and pulled her in to a brief hug. Vilena held back tears. Even though she was a spiteful old crone, she was still her mother, and loved her.

As her mother pulled her away, trumpets sounded outside. "This is it. Give your family a reason to be proud. Earn the affection I have shown you.", her mother picked up her bouquet and walked out to the hallway, pulling a gray haired Imperial man in a generals uniform on to her arm. One by one her ladies in waiting, sisters, nieces, and aunts followed her mother, until only she was left. She took a deep breath, stood up straight, put on her happiest face, and walked out of the arch to the altar.

_"Glide, glide, glide; remember to glide!",_ she reminded herself. She kept her head down during the ceremony, as was customary. "And so, with the blessings of the Eight Divines, we bring this couple together so that they may keep the peace and prosperity of the most intelligent Thalmor, and the most powerful Empire. They are now joined in marriage. You may now present your rings, and kiss the bride.", the Priestess of Mara droned. One of Vilena's nieces brought out the rings. Her stomach fluttered and she began to realize the gravity of this as she held out her hand.

She saw a pair of long, slender, golden hands, slide a golden band of diamonds and moonstone on to her ring finger. She took the other ring, and did the same. How funny it was that her husband had more elegant hands than she did. And then she looked up. Her heart jumped in to her throat. He had such soft eyes, warmer and kinder than any Altmer she had ever seen before. He seemed taken aback as well. She didn't want to lean in for the kiss. She felt it would be so embarrassing, but it was a wedding. She had to.

It was short, and awkward, and they couldn't help grinning like idiots. They held each other's hands and turned to crowd of family and friends, and walked down the aisle together. Vilena felt a lot better about this marriage.

(Okay, should I do the next chapter in Gerrick's point of view, or the reception?)


	2. The Reception

The reception, held on a large outdoor patio, was very exclusive. Only family and servants were allowed to attend, not even ladies in waiting. The head table had only the adult immidiate family members; the parents of the bride and groom. Vilena took in her new inlaws. There was Gerricks mother, a stern face, even by Altmer standards; His father, who appeared to be lost in thought, and every so often made a face like he smelled something vile; three of his sister were there, each more bewildered by Cyrodiil than the last.

And then there was Gerrick himself. He was towering, and had powdery white hair down to his shoulders. He looked like any other Altmer, but there was something different... His eyes were a soft, warm amber, and there was a feeling to them that if you looked in them, you could swear you were being held in a warm blanket in the arms of your most beloved parent. He looked kind, and a bit shy... But also unsure and aloof. It was a little unsettling. He felt himself sweating under the eyes of his new family and wife. Or, was that just paranoia?

He could see her watching his every move, with her judging eyes. Her azure eyes. Her beautiful, sparkling, thoughtful, azure, eyes. Wait, what was thinking about again? Oh. Right. Paranoia. He took a drink of wine out of his goblet, thought for a moment, and chugged the rest of the cup. No use, he still felt like he was being glared at by everyone in the room. Especially his own parents. He knew why _they _would be upset. They wanted him to make a fuss. They wanted him to give them a reason to cut him out of the family name.

If he had resisted, he would have been removed from the family because he "dishonored" them. But he showed them. He didn't complain. He didn't hesitate. And lucky for him, she actually seems a lot more pleasant than the Imperial women some of his friends had married. They were always complaining, very vain, and clingy. But Vilena didn't seem that way. From the few words that had been spoken as of yet, she seemed polite, and sweet. A bit shy, but so was he. He signaled to a servant to pour him some more wine.

He swallowed half the goblet, and turned toward Vilena to speak, starting to get a little buzzed. He froze up, and only managed to stammer out a "Hi". "Hi", she blushed back, downing some brandy from a flask that she had snuck in. He was relieved he wasn't the only one who was nervous. She shook her head, and turned to him. Talking was hard. "So, uh, what do you do for a living?", she asked, trying to spark a conversation. "I don't really do anything. My family is rich, and they say I don't have any useful skills, so I just do what i'm asked.", he rambled.

"Oh. Me too.", she replied. "I like to make things, too.", he added, trying to keep it going. "What kind of things?" "Well, jewelry, figurines, pretty much anything to be made with metal and stone." "I can't really make anything, but people seem to like my cooking. I make this one dish where you make some thin noodles out of wheat paste, and boil a chicken. Then you cut it up, add some subtle spices like basil, and put in a few pinches of salt. I gave some to one of my younger brothers when he was sick with a cold, and it looked like he perked right up after a few sips. I call it 'chicken noodle soup'.", she said excitedly.

"I've never heard of something like that before! It sounds good.", he smiled. "I could make some, some time, if you'd like." "I would." They made eye contact, and looked away. "I'm working on a new kind of alloy.", he spoke up. "Really? What's it made of?" "I'm using three other kinds of alloying, plus this weird pocked stone I found in a hole. I think it might be a meteorite! It's not meant to be very durable, as in, for armor and weapons. Just for decoration. I'm going to melt it down, give it a rough shape, and put a mixture of moonstone, glass, and flecks of ebony and silver around it in a more precise shape."

"That sounds beautiful. I'm sure it will be worth the effort when it's done.", she assured him. They talked for a long time, and didn't notice it was dark. The servants lit several strings of lanterns, and the music started to pick up. Stronger alcohol was starting to be served, along with more meaty and salty food. Most of everyone had gone home, but the couple weren't allowed to leave until all of their guests had given their gifts and well wishes, and left. " And THAT is why they call our main hall, 'Roasted Hart' Hall! Not to strike fear in to commoners hearts, but because it always smelled like burned venison!", Gerrick concluded.

Vilena and the few other family members there all burst in to laughter. His parents and Vilena's mother had left, and he felt more at ease to tell jokes. There was no 'sober' in that celebration by then. Vilena's giggles trailed off, and she put her hand on Gerrick's. They both started laughing again. Gerrick leaned in to whisper something in her ear. "I'm glad this marriage was arranged. You're nothing like the Cyrodiilic women my friends talk about.", he told her. "The drunk are the most honest. You aren't anything like the Altmer I've met. I'm happy, too.", she whispered back, and kissed his cheek.

He giggled like a toddler. A few 'aww's' were heard from another Altmer/Imperial couple, by the wife. "Why weren't YOU this sweet at our wedding?", the fifty-something woman slurred. "Cause' we had our wedding in MY country, and we weren't ALLOWED to show affection or get drunk or... what was I saying?", the Altmer man said to his equally intoxicated wife. They laughed at each other, and hugged. It was a shame to think that in the morning they'll look back at the happiness they felt together and be so embarassed.

But not Vilena and Gerrick. Their night was just about to begin. And they were going to cherish the affection they were showing that night forever.


	3. The Honeymoon Feast

(AN: This chapter was really relaxing to write, and was also really easy as I had my window open and for the past few week it's been really hot, and we've had really heavy rain, so it's nice and humid out. So, tropical islands were really easy to imagine. Anyway, they've for the most part stopped shying away, and started acting more like a couple in love. Also, guess who learned to use the line thingy!)

* * *

The reception came to a close, finally, and Vilena and Gerrick were led away to their honeymoon. Their parents had collaborated on it as a wedding present; a small island mansion just off of the Summerset Isles. Their new home, as well as their after-wedding getaway. On the boat ride, they spent their time in an embarrassed exchange of friendly banter. They hadn't really had a real conversation since the wedding. But that changed once they reached the island. The island was breathtaking; bursting with greens and yellows and purples, and exotic fauna that not even Gerrick had seen.

Surrounding the bright jungle-like island, the water changed from the deep azure of the ocean, to a bright aqua, dotted with pure white sand banks and tall cattails. Vilena had never seen such a paradise. She had been packed all of her lightest clothes, as it would never be cold in the tropical slice of beauty she would now call home, and instead of taking a small rowboat to shore, when the water became waist high she jumped out in to perfect water. Her colorful mesh dress floated behind her as she waded in the warm salty water, and she took her time getting to shore.

As she had never been outside the walls of the Imperial City, she had never known the gentle touch of the waves of an island, only the pale blue water of the pools outside her family's estate. She would have to change and come back out later. When she reached the shore, the ship had already docked, and more rowboats were being sent out with luggage and supplies, as well as the many gifts from the wedding. Gerrick was waiting for her, and took her hand, leading her out of the water. "Look over there.", he said, pulling her beside him in a bold fashion.

He had apparently gained more confidence in the weeks on the ship together. Vilena looked to where he was pointing. And the house was almost as beautiful as the island. You could see from the outside that it had many rooms that were roofless, and had arranged gardens filling in. She couldn't wait to explore it. "Wow.", was all she could say. She started to beam, and dragged Gerrick away by the hand. "We _have _to go in _now!_", she exclaimed. This was turning out to be far better than expected. They ran to the house and she let go of his hand to push open the door. The first room was humid and pleasant, and flowers sat in ornate vases.

The furnishings were simple, but far different than the the ones in Cyrodiil. They were made from a strange kind of wood, and had soft cushioning and delicate carvings all over them. An archway led in to a mid-sized kitchen, where servants from both Cyrodiil and the Summerset Isles were already busy preparing dishes. "Oh, that's right. I was told we were supposed to have a feast with the natives when we got here.", Vilena remembered. "I wonder what the food will be like. I don't think I've ever seen this island before, and I've gone to just about all of sub islands.", Gerrick added.

She wandered the house from room to room, with her new husband behind her at every step. Each door they went through, and every beaded archway they went through brought more beautiful scenery and furnishings, from garden patios, to bedrooms, to steam houses, to dens. Vilena was a bit overwhelmed. After spending a few hours carefully examining every room, she finally found the master bedroom. There were two large closets, one on each side, and a door leading in to a chamber-room.

She collapsed on the bed, and luxuriated on the soft blankets. She could tell the mattress was stuffed with cotton and the comforter with down, and after weeks on a boat sleeping in a straw bed, (in an awkward fashion, as she had to sleep with Gerrick, and they tried to avoid touching, so they slept as far to the side as possible. On the last week, though, they had become comfortable enough to sleep closer.), a real bed felt like the most sensual thing she could imagine. She only remembered that Gerrick was there after he sat down on the side of the bed and started choking a laugh.

She sheepishly sat back up. "Sorry. It's a soft bed.", she smiled. She felt a lot more calm with him now. She was attracted to him, and she kept forgetting that she needn't be shy, but she was starting to remember they were married. She playfully pulled him back, and lay his head on her lap. (Not like that, sicko.) She sighed and started playing with his hair as he closed his eyes. They had a while to go before the feast that night, so now it was time to relax and take in their surroundings.

"What do you think of this place?", Gerrick asked Vilena, eyes still closed. "I think it's beautiful here.", she replied dreamily. "Me too.", he sighed. He really did find it to be more calm than his home life. He seemed to have everything now, even things he never expected or dreamed of. He was worried, of course, that their relationship would never move forward, but the sweet wafting smells of the flowers and sap in the trees blowing through the window, and the cloudlike softness of the bed, and the soft touch of his wife's hands on his head reassured him that there was progress.

Before, they never would have even looked each other in the eye, and now, he felt they were close to being able to embrace.

* * *

People from all over the island, and the islands nearby were starting to arrive to the beachfront, and their voices carried up to the house. Vilena and Gerrick woke up to the chatter of the people gathering on the patio next to the docks. They had dozed off, and had had a well deserved nap. If you'd ever been on a boat for an extended period of time, you'd know why. She sat up and pushed Gerrick off her, accidentally pushing him off the bed all-together. He landed on the floor with a muffled 'thud'.

Vilena covered her mouth, and leaned over the side of the bed to make sure he was okay. He was still sleeping peacefully. She giggled, and got off the bed to change. Her dress was still warm and wet from her walk in the water, and she was positive she was not dressed formally enough. She pulled her dress off, and put on a flowing green sundress, pinning a few native flowers here and there, and braided her hair up. She leaned out the window the breath in the warm scents more clearly, and caught sight of her guests.

About forty Altmer men and women were there already, and snacks were being served. She could smell stewed clams from high up on the third floor, and her stomach growled. There wasn't much more than over salted fish and citrus on the boat, and she hadn't eaten since the night before. Walking over to her sleeping husband, she bent over and poked his cheek. He still slept. She ended up kicking him, and he jumped awake. "What was that for?!", he yelled, putting his hand on his side.

"You weren't waking up! I didn't know what else to try, and I'm hungry...", she said apologetically, helping him up. "You'll be fine, you baby." "I think I can feel my self internally bleeding...", he replied dramatically. She pulled up his shirt and felt the area where she kicked him, not thinking before doing, and blushed. She froze for a moment, and pulled her hand away. "You're fine.", she said quietly, turning away, hiding a flushed smile. He pulled his shirt back down, and noticed Vilena had changed in to a more formal gown.

"Should I change too?", he asked, turning to his own closet, and opening it to find his own light clothing. Then it hit them. Someone had gone in their room and put their things away while they were sleeping. Vilena blushed an even deeper red. "They... probably... We're married so...", Vilena stuttered. "Of course. It's perfectly natural for someone to... I mean, not that we did... I'll just change.", Gerrick said. He dressed in black pants and black boots, and tucked a white shirt in. He pulled a belt around himself, and pushed the buckle through the hole, tying a knot near it, and put a brown light fabric overshirt on.

He escorted Vilena outside, just as the sun began to go down. They walked out of the house and in to the crowd of people, and Vilena's stomach growled again. Almost the moment she sat down on the right seat at the head of the table, she signaled a servant for some of the clam stew she had smelled. She ate it as slowly as she could, being as hungry as she was. Gerrick was waiting more for the main dishes of meat, and ate nuts and fruit. Most of the guests came up and introduced themselves and their families.

As they sat at the table, Vilena got more hungry. It wasn't ladylike to fill up on a side dish, or not eat the main dish. After what seemed like forever, the real food and drink were brought out. She noticed how similar this feast was to her wedding reception as she ate her meal. She looked down at her husbands plate to see that it was already empty after only a few minutes. He looked at the plates full of food and she saw a sort of longing. It wasn't polite to have seconds before most of your guests had finished their firsts. Her plate was half full.

She discreetly pushed the food on her plate on to his, and he smiled at her, picking up a chicken leg. Everyone ate and drank to their hearts content, and some of the children started playing a game of tag. One particularly bold little boy ran up to Vilena. "Tag!", he shouted gleefully. Almost everyone at the table went silent, and three people, a woman a man and a teenage girl, had a look of horror on their faces. She stood up, with a stone face, and looked down at the little child. Then she started chasing after him.

She played with the children until the houses who they belonged to had to leave, and gained even more points with the locals. After a long and exhausting day, both Vilena and Gerrick were tired and ready to sleep. The scents of the plans and soft calls of the wildlife were lullaby-like, and they found no problems in falling in to a deep and restful sleep.


	4. The First Trial of Sadness

(WARNING! SOME GRAPHIC SCENES AND EXTREME FEELS AHEAD! READ AT YOUR OWN RISK! THERE WILL BE AN INTERMISSION CHAPTER OR TWO AFTER THIS ABOUT SOME OF THE SERVANTS, AS A BREAK FROM THE SADS!)

Vilena sat on a bench by the ocean, and let the cool salty wind blow around her. It had been more than a year since she and Gerrick had come here, and it was one of her favorite things to do. Normally she'd take a book or a game board out with her, but today, as the last week, she was too tired. Lately, all she'd wanted to do was sit and relax. She must have dozed off some time while sitting there, because the next thing she knew, her husband was standing in front of her, holding her hand. "Vilena. You've been out here all day. Come inside before you get burned.", he said to her, helping her steady on her feet.

The steadiness did not last long, though, because a sudden wave of nausea washed over her, and she vomited. Gerrick jumped out of the way, but Vilena fell to her knees, and let it all out. He called for a servant to bring a wet cloth, and pulled her hair out of her face. She still felt awful, and knelt over the sand until the servant arrived. She wiped and rinsed her mouth out, then leaned over until she fell on to Gerrick. She was very tired now. "What's going on, Ena?", he asked her, his voice laced with worry.

She looked up at him with half closed eyes, and opened her mouth to say something. _I don't know. I can't figure it out. I don't understand it. _"I think I'm pregnant."

* * *

Gerrick led the way as they and a small group of servants walked through the jungle-like forest. Vilena had one hand in his hand, and the other placed upon on her swelling stomach. She was nearing the second trimester of pregnancy, and her bump had become very, very noticeable. Fortunately, her clothes were very adjustable and stretchable. Unfortunately, the smell of some of the flowers had started to make her sick. To relieve that, and the ache in her back and everywhere else, she would walk in a less flowery part of the forest.

She laughed and breathed in the sap, which smelled surprisingly delicious, walking along the lined path with her husband. She hadn't written home about the baby growing inside her, nor had Gerrick. There would be a time for that. Perhaps after it was born. She decided to take a smaller path to a cliff overlooking a sea cave. Before, she used to wander in it when the low tide came in, though the steward advised her strongly not to. The steward, named Lollen, was actually much, much younger than the pair. He was about twenty by Altmer years, and Vilena was 32! But he was a strict and orderly steward.

He was with the group of servants, along with Vilena's favorite handmaiden, a young Altmer woman of 17 by Altmer years, hardly a woman at all, named Linilia. When Vilena pulled Gerricks hand away from the group and started running down the path, she swung her arm out in front of Lollen, who tried to go after them, yelling warnings about safety. "Let them go. They won't be hurt.", she said with a smile.

* * *

Vilena pulled her husband along, laughing and running farther through the jungle-like paradise, nearing the cliff overlooking the sea, when she suddenly stopped, and crouched, clutching her stomach. She furrowed her brow in pain, and started gasping for breath. Gerrick held her shoulders. "What's going on? Are you okay?", he said in the same voice he used that wonderful day. "It... It's nothing. Just a cramp, probably just a gas bubble. I... Just let me rest for a moment.", she pushed through her teeth.

They sat for a moment, after the pain had subsided. "Are you sure we should continue this walk? Maybe we should go back home and get you some rest.", Gerrick said. "No, no, I'm fine. I probably shouldn't run anymore, though!", she said, brushing it off in an upbeat manner. She stood up and brushed herself off, and held her hand behind her back, which Gerrick took and followed behind her. She felt a little odd after that. It felt like what one of her handmaidens, a lovely young Breton who had recently given birth, said contractions felt like.

But that couldn't be. She was barely in to her third month of pregnancy! Yes, it must have been a gas bubble. She started to smell the salt of the ocean breeze, and her face felt cool and relieved. She had almost forgotten her little spasm by the time they reached the overlook. A large log sat near the edge, and Gerrick had been whittling at it on his spare time, every time they went up there. He had gotten two large curved notches carved in to it to serve as seats, and was working on shaping the bottom in to legs for the bench.

She walked toward it, but Gerrick stopped her. "Wait!", he said, looking to the side of the cliff. He walked over to a large palm bush on the side, and pulled few palm leaves from it. They were large and thick, but not stiff. He turned it over to reveal hundreds of small buds, similar to those on the Pussy Willow of Earth, unbeknownst to them, of course. (Seriously, the buds are super soft and they make me squee. They're like tiny baby tribbles! You can touch one and look at one at your local Meijer. It's the sqwiggly branch thing with the fuzzy teardrop shaped buds.)

He grinned and showed them to Vilena, then turned them all over. He placed them on the notches and then let his wife pass him. "I'm not like all the other helpless pregnant women, you know.", she said reluctantly sitting down. Then it hit again, with a small gurgle. The pain was far worse than before, and she shot up. "I... I need to excuse myself...", she said, rushing off a little ways in to the palm bushes. She squat there, and started to scream. Gerrick was terrified. Vilena was in pain and terrified. She felt horrible contractions, and a gushing, emptying feeling, then, total exhaustion. She was in shock of it all.

Gerrick rushed to her side and froze in fear. Vilena was lying on the ground, barely conscious and trying to say something. _"The blood... blood... look at it... there's so much. Where did so much blood come from..."_, he could make out, as he finally gathered himself up enough to kneel beside her and pull her head up to his shoulder, sitting between his legs, laying her head on his chest. He yelled for the servants to come quickly. To find a doctor. He pulled her back a little more, and looked at her dress. He had thought it was a different shade of red than her dress really was, at least from the thighs down.

Underneath her legs, soaking through her dress, covering the ground underneath where she was... It seemed like it was everywhere. The blood. And the clumps. Large clumps, small clumps, all were red balls of gooey blood and tissue. But one clump stood out. It wasn't the biggest, and it wasn't the smallest, but it was definitely the worst one. It was a blob, about the size of Gerricks forearm, without his hand, that seemed to have thin bloody appendages and a swollen head. Even like this it was clear it was badly deformed. He realized what happened, and had a sinking horror that Vilena did too.

She had lost the baby. Her baby; His baby, was dead, and probably had been for weeks. Before then there had been some bleeding and a few minor cramps. The local doctor said it was normal for a woman to spot a little during pregnancy, but they knew now it had been a warning sign that something went wrong. Genetics went wrong. The baby would not have been born alive, even if she hadn't miscarried. Too many differences between their genes. He had a horrible gut-wrenching feeling that this would not be the last time it would happen.

The group of servants returned, though two left as soon as they arrive, as swiftly as they could to get a cot to carry Vilena home. Lollen turned away to vomit. "Linilia, I need you to hold Vilena up.", he said in a serious voice. The handmaiden dropped her parasol and immediately took Gerricks place, stroking her best friends hair and hushing her. Gerrick pulled a huge plain leaf from a tree, and used it as delicate wrap for the bloody shape on the clearing floor, and picked it up, carefully wrapping it as not to squish it.

The cot arrived, and he placed the wrapping on Vilena's bosom, so he could help put her on the cot. With her remaining strength, her hands faintly lay upon the wrapping. She let a few tears fall across her cheeks, and fell in to a deep sleep.

* * *

Vilena woke up to a clean robe, and clean underclothes, and a clean body, in a heavily cushioned bed used for the sick wing of the mansion. Perhaps I've been a bit liberal with the phrase "mansion". It's more of a palace, really. A castle, maybe. There were individual rooms for every servant, and multiple kitchens, and gardens, and tea rooms, and drawing rooms, and all kinds of rooms. It was like a small town inside of their home, the servants having their own lives in the palace. Children, marriages, all of these liberties were allowed to the servants of the House of Aredreyn.

There was even a nursery where the children were kept during chores. But, when we see Vilena again, she is not nearly as happy as the other women. Gerrick lays beside her, holding her tightly in his arms, keeping her warm and loved. But she still cries. She sits up and she cries harder than she had ever thought was possible. Gerrick sits up and pulls her as close as physically possible, and cries too. When she feels like she can't cry anymore, Gerrick tells her see must eat something first.

He hands her a bowl of soup, the 'chicken noodle soup' recipe she had taught him, he had made himself. She ate a few spoonfuls of the soup, then left it alone, wanting to sleep. But, yet again, he would not let her sleep. He helped her handmaidens dress her in heavy black robes and cloaks and dresses. They were going to a funeral. A funeral for the small, now dried, fetus. It was wrapped in cotton, then in a layer of black satin, and another two layers of white silk. She was hardly able to stand during it, and she was allowed to hold her baby. She cradled it in her arms, and gave it name. Oryn.

She kissed the top of the silken wrap, and lay her baby in a coffin. The coffin was made of a basket, filled with blankets and pillows and cushions, inserted in to a redwood case. She covered it with a blanket she had been making for the baby. It was small and unfinished, but it worked perfectly for her poor baby. She had to be held and restrained while her son was being lowered in to the grave, and marked with a gravestone. Her husband held her tightly, and let her tears soak his coat. This day was a special day. The rain had fallen, signaling for the now upon them rainy season. He hurried her inside and get her changed.

She was undressed and kept in a warm soft white robe. All the while, through the sleeping and crying and occasional eating and using the restroom and bathing , Gerrick stayed with her, holding her up, helping her move and work. Even when she needed to use the chamber pot, and then wash her hands and clean herself, he was there with her, in the room, while a nursemaid helped her clean herself after using the chamber pot. He truly loved her. That night, she curled in to a new bed, a large cushy one, that was in a room that opened on to a balcony over looking the sea.

Flowing curtains were hung over the arch, and sliding wooden doors were fitted, but no one bothered to shut them. She wanted t get a little wet. She wanted to hear the thunder and lightening. She wanted to believe that the world was in as much pain and sadness as she was. She had expected to sleep alone: maybe the shock from the loud noises outside would kill her. But Gerrick crawled in with her, and held her close. He caressed her tearswollen face, still beautiful even under all of the grief and pain, and kissed her forehead, pulled her as close and securely as he could, and they fell in to a restful sleep.

The first restful sleep in a long time. And the first step to being at peace.


End file.
